


so, what's happening with you and yvonne?

by bisexualharrycunningham



Category: Torchwood, Torchwood: Aliens Among Us
Genre: ... teeny bit of crack fic mayhaps?, ? and andy wants More, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Hopeful Ending, and gwen teases the hell out of andy for his big fat crush on yvonne hartman, anyway andy and yvonne are like lowkey, but like pre-s6, canon divergence kinda, gwen and andy meet up for drinks, gwen is also lowkey a bisexual mess, mention of pegging kinda?, post-s5, shut up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24913774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualharrycunningham/pseuds/bisexualharrycunningham
Summary: Gwen asks Andy about him and Yvonne, and, in between blushes, Andy tells her.
Relationships: (mentioned) - Relationship, Andy Davidson/Yvonne Hartman, Yvonne as in Pete's world Yvonne
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	so, what's happening with you and yvonne?

“So,” Gwen crossed one leg over the other smugly. “What’s happening with you and Yvonne?”

Andy spluttered into the last of his beer.

The two of them were seated at the back of a dingy Welsh pub – Gwen, leather-jacket clad and smiling, Andy, still dishevelled in his uniform and looking decidedly distracted from their after-work drink. Well, it was after-work for him, anyway; since cutting ties with Torchwood, Gwen hadn’t been up to all that much, apparently, other than the school run. She still saw Andy every now and then though, and she had promised him it was because she valued their friendship as opposed to a sneaky way of keeping her eye on her ex-colleagues – not that he fully believed her.

Well, he  _ definitely  _ didn’t believe her now. He hadn’t even mentioned Yvonne, or at least not by name. Trust Gwen to poke her nose in, start shit-stirring...

“Nothing much,” he responded as casually as he could, having cleared his throat and regained some kind of composure. Gwen raised a brow.

“Bollocks.” She let out a giggle. “I can’t say I blame ya, Andy. I would if it wasn’t for this,” she wiggled her hand at him, her wedding ring glinting under the dull lighting. “She  _ has  _ got a gorgeous pair of t-”

“Gwen!” 

“Oh, you know I’m right. And I  _ know  _ you have a thing for women who could crush you to sm-”

“Shut up!” Andy squeaked, swatting her playfully. He cleared his throat again. “We just meet  occasionally to talk,  y’know , business. Torchwood stuff. We collaborate, now, you know – better than before.”

Gwen poked at the ice cubes collected at the bottom of her glass with her rather soggy paper straw,  suppressing another giggle. “Alright, but  _ after  _ you talk business?”

“We go home.”

“Whose home?”

“Our own homes!” Andy exclaimed. “Bloody hell, Gwen.”

“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up. “It’s my round, right?”

Andy nodded, watching absently as Gwen stood up and headed towards the bar. He checked his phone, twice; she still hadn’t texted.  _ Bloody Gwen was bloody right _ , he thought to himself – he  _ did  _ have a thing for the new head of Torchwood, and furthermore, he'd done something about it. Since Yvonne had first asked him to dinner, they’d made rather a habit of it; dinner, or drinks, and then they’d head back to Yvonne’s for what was usually one of the best shags of his life. Sometimes they’d be some fumbling in the car, or along the street too, like horny teenagers – and Andy did indeed feel like a teen again when he was with Yvonne. She made his heart slam against his chest and the tips of his ears flush pink, like a schoolkid with a crush...

“Beer number three coming right up!” Gwen announced, sliding a pint across the grainy wooden table and snapping Andy out of his reverie.

“Cheers,” he mumbled. There was a silence as Gwen sipped her Diet Coke, followed by her foot nudging his under the table.

“I am sorry, if I took it too far.”

Andy looked up at her questioningly. 

“About Yvonne,” Gwen confirmed. Andy hated how his tummy flipped pleasantly at her name.

“S’alright.”

“Really, though. Didn’t mean to pry.”

There was another silence, and Andy felt his feelings bubbling up in him again, picturing how pretty Yvonne looked at sunrise, when he woke up in her bed, and how hot he found it when she’d fuck him almost fully clothed, in that sleek black blazer she liked to wear, and how much he ached for her when she wasn’t around. He let out a sigh.

“Well, the thing is, Gwen-” Andy started, rolling his eyes as Gwen leaned in eagerly. “Oh, you’re an arse. The thing is, I – well, we’ve been seeing each other. Dinner, mostly. We go back to hers.  Y’know , stuff.” He felt his cheeks aflame.

“What’s she like in bed?”

“Good,” Andy said truthfully, after a moment. “Really good.”

“And?”

“And that’s it.” He couldn’t help the note of sadness that crept into his voice as he said it, and Gwen – lovely, messy, well-meaning Gwen – picked up on it in an instant. “It’s just sex, I think. Which is fine, it’s good, but-”

“You like her.” Gwen said. It wasn’t a question, but Andy nodded his affirmation anyway.

“I like her a lot.” 

“Are you going to tell her?” she asked thoughtfully, twirling her straw between her fingers. “I think you’d be good for her. Stability and that. You’re well suited, strangely enough.”

“But I don’t know if she feels the same,” came his weak response. “I don’t want to lose her.”

Gwen raised her eyebrows once more as he swigged his drink. “You  _ have _ got it bad.”

It was at this moment that a notification flashed up onto Andy’s screen. 

_ Yvonne: Hotel, three nights. Candles and rose petals and whatnot, apparently. Pick me up at eight x _

He flushed a deeper shade of red at the implications of the message, and the fact that he could feel Gwen staring at him expectantly. 

“That’s her?”

“Yeah. She’s booked – she's booked the weekend away.” his throat felt dry, and his palms were sweating. Gwen squinted at the screen.

“Picking her up at eight? Christ, I better leave you to it.” Gwen slurped noisily at the last of her drink and stood up. “Rose petals and candles? Can only mean one thing. Yvonne Hartman is not a woman who gets flowers out for any old fucker.”

Andy gaped at her. “Oh. Right-”

“Right. You’re a lucky man, Andy. And you’d better get a move on unless you want to piss her off.” Gwen beamed, and leant across the table to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “Good luck,  loverboy.”

Andy stared after her, then back down at his phone. Yvonne was typing again.

_ Yvonne: Is the strap still at your house? If so, bring it along. _

Andy gulped. Then, he picked up his keys, shrugged on his hi vis jacket, and made for the door.

**Author's Note:**

> finally worked out how italics work on this site....why am i lowkey a boomer
> 
> anyway thank u for reading! pls let me know what u think x


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